


i'm trying to find my way

by towokuwusatsuwu



Category: Kamen Rider Ex-Aid
Genre: Communication, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Forgiveness, Healthy Relationships, Kissing, M/M, Multi, OT7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 19:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11675451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towokuwusatsuwu/pseuds/towokuwusatsuwu
Summary: The seven of them, united by unfortunate circumstances, are going to forge a life together one way or another.





	i'm trying to find my way

“You wake up too early.” The voice is husky from sleep but warm through and through, and Kiriya Kujo smiles to himself as a familiar pair of arms snake around his shoulders.

“You know you don’t have to get up with me, right?” He turns away from the coffee brewing to press his face against dark, dark waves. “The others never have. You can still sleep in.”

Graphite huffs at him and turns his head, nuzzling against Kiriya’s neck. “Don’t want to.”

His coding had almost been beyond salvaging. Kuroto had spent days locked into his office, intent on not emerging from the self-inflicted confinement until he was certain he could bring Graphite back. No amount of banging on the door by any of them had been able to stop him.

Seventy hours later, almost delirious from lack of sleep and food, Kuroto had emerged from the room with Graphite fully intact. Kiriya and Emu had been the ones to make sure Kuroto ate before passing out; he still remembers hefting Kuroto up into his arms at the precise moment that Parado slammed himself into Graphite’s side hard enough to knock them both over.

Graphite was the one person Kiriya had neglected to form any meaningful relationship with before he died, but to be fair, Graphite did not offer that. He was always an enemy even as the lines between friend and enemy blurred over and over again. Even after Kuroto and then Parado joined them, even after Hiiro and Taiga finally stopped fighting each other.

It had been a learning process. Kuroto and Parado knew Graphite, Parado better than most, knew him inside and out, and the two had been close from day one. Graphite still retained some of Saki’s love for Hiiro, enough to make things easier, and Taiga  _ wanted _ to get to know him.

“Coffee will wake you up if you drink some,” he says, wrapping an arm around Graphite’s waist to pull him in closer, rubbing soothing circles into his back with his free hand.

Graphite huffs against his neck. “It tastes vile and I refuse to drink any of it.”

“You can make it taste better if you add things to it. Hold on.” Kiriya untangles them, sitting the pouting dragon Bugster down at the kitchen table before making a beeline for the refrigerator. “You better be happy Hiiro likes his coffee as sweet as he likes his desserts.”

After debating the merits of creamer and sugar and milk, Kiriya hands Graphite a cup. “Here.”

Graphite wrinkles his nose at the liquid but sniffs it curiously before taking a tentative sip.

“I told you,” Kiriya says, smiling triumphantly when Graphite looks up at him, eyes wide with wonder and surprise, lips parted just slightly. “You can make anything taste good if you try.”

He kisses Graphite affectionately on the cheek before starting on breakfast.

Because he knows Graphite well enough by now, it doesn’t surprise him when Graphite eventually comes to stand at his elbow, cracking eggs on command, stirring batter when asked.

“You’re good at this domesticity, y’know,” Kiriya tells him, flicking whipped cream at him.

Graphite blinks at him, seemingly surprised by the comment, so Kiriya leans in, kissing the sweet cream off of the end of his nose. He never would have guessed that something so simple could make Graphite flush darkly, duck his head. Kiriya grins and files the information away.

* * *

There are some human activities that Graphite finds pleasing; riding in a car along back roads is one of them, enjoying the peace and quiet. The rain pattering softly on the roof of the car only relaxes him further, nearly boneless in the passenger seat of Taiga Hanaya’s car with only the rain and the soft, steady sound of Taiga’s breathing to punctuate the quiet around them.

Before this, there had been plenty of words between the two of them. Most of those words had been venomous in nature, promises of death and pain and agony, a fight constantly stirred between them due to their circumstances. It’s nice to have the quiet, the contrast, the chance to apologize by doing something as simple as taking the hand Taiga isn’t using to drive in his.

He remembers Hiiro making Taiga promise to use both hands, especially in the rain, but of course he had refused to listen, settling into an old habit instead. Graphite smiles at the thought, running the tips of his fingers over the back of Taiga’s hand. He and Hiiro have a curious relationship, one he doesn’t quite understand, a playful bickering that serves only as a backdrop for the fierce reality that they would do anything, risk anything, to protect each other.

Taiga sighs at him and flexes the hand Graphite holds, glancing over to where he sits, then down to their hands. “You do that a lot. My hands can’t be that fascinating.”

“It intrigues me that the same hands capable of wielding far more powerful weapons than a human should be able to are just as capable of diligent and careful medical care.” Graphite squeezes Taiga’s hand to punctuate his point, all too aware that it feels strange to speak his usually private thoughts aloud. “Bugsters were created to destroy, so you fascinate me.”

“You served your destructive purpose very well, I would think,” Taiga says after a beat.

Graphite hums at this, pulling his lower lip between his teeth, worrying it but not hard enough to draw blood. “I’m not sure if you mean that as a compliment or as an insult.”

“If we hadn’t had you there, we wouldn’t have been able to save everyone.” Taiga turns his hand, taking one of Graphite’s tight in his grip. “You were necessary for everything.”

“A compliment, then.” Graphite flushes too easily, knows this perhaps better than anyone, but humans are so bluntly honest, especially his humans. “You could have just said that.”

Taiga laughs. “I told you a long time ago I would be honest with you if you wanted to know something. That was my promise to help you adjust to life with all of us. Remember?”

“I remember. Thank you.” Graphite takes his hand, raises it enough to kiss his knuckles.

Taiga shakes his grip before patting the space between them, and Graphite takes the hint, laying down across the seats, his head resting on Taiga’s lap.

The same fingers that he had admired so much slip into his hair, massaging his scalp with slow, gentle, yet firm movements; he almost purrs as he leans into the touch.

They lapse into a familiar silence once again.

* * *

The entire couch is empty. Taiga is only occupying one cushion of it, eyes trained on the tv screen in front of him. Kuroto had made good on his promise to finish  _ Bang Bang Shooting. _

The entire couch is empty, and yet Hiiro gracefully strides across Taiga’s field of vision, a momentary distraction from his goal of  _ kill everything on this screen _ to settle in beside him, so close their thighs are pressed together, another distraction from his goal.

Taiga pauses the game and glances at Hiiro, who has settled himself down with a slice of cake— something chocolate and decadent, one of Graphite’s creations. “Comfortable?”

“I wanted entertainment with my snack,” Hiiro informs him. “Keep playing.”

“Snack.” Taiga unpauses and commences killing once again. His skills with this game are incomparable because Nico refuses to play it. “You’d make a meal out of that cake.”

Hiiro nudges him with his elbow hard enough that Taiga almost misses a shot. “Shut up. You’d know how good these are if you ate them. And you should. Graphite works hard on them.”

Taiga says nothing, training his eyes on the targets on his screen, his fingers moving on the controller without him having to tell them to. He barely processes the sound of fork clinking against china, tossing it to the back of his mind because it isn’t a part of his game.

But he very much hears the faint sound of moaning next to him when Hiiro takes a proper bite of the cake and misses a perfect shot, turning a disbelieving gaze to Hiiro.

“You can’t make noise when I’m playing. You’ll distract me,” he says, ignoring the tilt of Hiiro’s lips as he turns back to the screen. “You have to be quiet or you have to go sit somewhere else.”

“Fine,” Hiiro says, though Taiga can hear how amused he is in his voice.

Usually when Taiga plays, his concentration is iron. Very few things can distract him; he’s gotten used to the wild nearly manic play of Kuroto’s voice, the way Emu will almost crawl into his lap when he’s tired, the way Kiriya grabs him in an impromptu hug every time he sees Taiga playing.

But when Hiiro takes another bite of his cake and moans once again, his concentration frazzles and he misses another shot.

“You missed that one,” Hiiro says, and Taiga almost throws the controller at the screen.

“I’m doing my best,” he retorts, trying to loosen the tension in his shoulders, knowing that getting worked up only means he misses more shots. “You could help by not making noise.”

“I can’t help it. This cake is good. You should have a bite,” Hiiro tells him matter-of-factly.

As soon as a fork appears in the periphery of his vision, Taiga pauses the game once again.

“You are distract—” It’s as much as he gets out before Hiiro pushes the cake into his mouth, and he scowls as he takes the bite, licking cream frosting off of his lips.

It’s a mistake; the culmination of the cake and the frosting makes him groan, the decadence just as heavy as he expected, except it stops just short of being too much for him to handle. Hiiro smirks at him, clearly pleased by his reaction, though he’s less than pleased when Taiga steals his plate and fork, his reflexes still at max considering he just stopped the game.

“Give that back,” he says, and Taiga dodges him, jumping off of the couch, plate in hand.

“You interrupted my game on purpose and now I’m taking your cake as spoils.” Taiga dodges when Hiiro lunges for him, taking off upstairs. “You have to catch me if you want it back!”

Hiiro swears but Taiga hears his footfalls on the stairs a moment later and smirks.

* * *

Some things should not feel so relaxing, Hiiro Kagami thinks to himself. Walking side by side with Emu down the street is one of those things, Emu’s hand tucked securely into his own, fingers soft and warm and familiar twined with his. There should be no aspect of this that is so calming and soothing that Hiiro feels at peace just taking these small steps.

Next to him, Emu looks unfairly cute, wearing a jacket too large for him— Kuroto’s, pushed unto his shoulders with reminders that winter is coming and it’s  _ cold _ — and a scarf wound around his neck— one of Graphite’s, shyly offered against the chill. He smiles, his eyes dancing with life and happiness and Hiiro would do anything to keep that expression in his eyes.

He would do anything for Emu Hojo. The man who reached out to him when his world was cold and cracked and broken, who never left his side despite how rude and cruel Hiiro was to him. Emu’s ability to be that person had in more ways than one brought all of them together.

“Hungry?” Emu asks him, swinging their hands back and forth for emphasis, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He obviously is; they must be close to some place he likes to eat, some place he wants to show Hiiro. “If you are, I know somewhere amazing we can eat.”

So Hiiro nods and smiles, stroking his thumb over Emu’s knuckles, watching his color heighten even further as he does so. “Starving,” he says, even though he could probably go another few hours without having to sit down and eat. “Go ahead and lead the way.”

Emu beams, whips around, and starts dragging Hiiro down the sidewalk with him.

The place he chooses is a quaint coffee shop with a surprising amount of patrons, but the woman behind the counter greets Emu like an old friend and leans across the counter to hug him. He orders for them when Hiiro gives him the go-ahead, letting go of Emu’s hand in favor of wrapping an arm around his waist, and Emu makes a delighted sound as he all but shoves himself into Hiiro’s arms, gripping him tight by the shoulders.

“The food they sell here is so good,” Emu tells him, pecking him on the nose.

“I’m sure it is,” Hiiro admits, and they navigate their way to an open table by the window. “Maybe we should bring back something for everyone after we finish eating.”

“Parado would probably love anything we brought him that had tomatoes on it.” Emu makes a face at the idea and Hiiro laughs. “He loves tomatoes and I still haven’t figured out why.”

Hiiro hums, wrapping his hands around the mug of hot coffee that’s set down in front of him. “Well, Parado is a puzzle. Maybe we just haven’t quite figured him out yet.”

It’s a cheesy line at best, but Emu lights up just the same and nods enthusiastically, so Hiiro thinks he might have done something right. “He’s a puzzle but he’s perfect for us anyway.”

“You could say he’s a perfect puzzle,” Hiiro murmurs, and he jumps out of his chair when Emu chokes on his drink, handing him a handful of napkins and rubbing his back.

They end up bringing back sandwiches and coffee for everyone, and Emu gets grateful kisses from everyone. Parado proceeds to steal the tomatoes off of everyone’s sandwiches and Hiiro relaxes in the warmth and companionship, and he thinks again that something so simple shouldn’t be so soothing, and yet it is.

* * *

They play games a lot. Emu knows that Parado loves to play games, so when he’s off from work, the two of them sprawl across the living room floor and make use of the various systems that Kuroto has gifted them with. One of them is brand new, not even on the market yet, but Kuroto insisted on making sure they had a copy and scoffed at the very idea either of them would need to pay for it. He’d also given them advanced copies of three new games.

This afternoon has been a quiet one. Kuroto and Hiiro are at work, Graphite having seen himself out on the pretense of taking them homemade lunch (and probably stealing kisses in the process), and Kiriya took Taiga out for a ride on his bike. So they have the apartment to themselves, and they’ve been making good use of it all morning long.

“I think this is my new favorite game,” Emu says without taking his eyes off the screen.

“It’s exciting!” Parado laughs, the sound high and almost musical. “It’s definitely a favorite.”

They clear the level with ease and Emu sits up, stretching his arms above his head, sore.

Parado rolls from his belly onto his back, pillowing his arms beneath his head. “Emu?”

“Hmm?” Emu looks down at his far too tall boyfriend, then decides to lay down next to him.

It’s a position that earns him a very clingy Bugster after a moment, Parado rolling onto his side, throwing a leg over both of Emu’s and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Parado nuzzles against his neck and Emu tilts his head, giving him more room to snuggle in as close as he wants to. At one point, the two of them had been two parts of the same whole, and their split had cast them into the role of constant rivals. It made too much sense that Parado’s games were, as a result,  _ Perfect Puzzle _ and  _ Knockout Fighter. _

“You’re so warm,” Parado informs him, and Emu twists to press a kiss to his forehead.

“And you’re cuddly,” he says, tangling his fingers in Parado’s curls, giving them a gentle tug.

“What I really like about the game,” Parado finally says, “is that it’s a partner game. And you can only win by playing with another person even if it’s a computer. It’s about teamwork.”

Emu grins and leans in, bumping their foreheads together. “We know a thing or two about that.”

Parado looks at him curiously for a moment, his eyes bright, and then he leans in close, and for a minute Emu isn’t sure where one of them begins and the other ends.

“I love you,” he whispers, smoothing his hand down the side of Parado’s face, over the so soft skin of his cheek, watching Parado lean into his touch. “I love you so much.”

After five more levels, they save their progress before shutting the game off. Parado makes them a nest of pillows and blankets on the couch, and Emu makes them both hot chocolate and steals two pieces of Hiiro’s cake, one for each of them. Playing games is good, but laying on the couch with Parado half in his lap, laughing at silly reality shows and enjoying each other’s warmth and closeness is the best.

* * *

“You don’t usually come here,” Kuroto says when the pixels that emerge from his smartphone take the familiar appearance of Parado, arms already wrapped around the back of Kuroto’s chair, face peering curiously over his shoulder at his screen. “Come to see what I’m working on?”

“I came to check on you because Kiriya said you hadn’t answered the last three messages he sent you and he was worried about you.” Parado reaches around him and taps at the keyboard, adding a few things to his coding. “He always comes, so I volunteered to this time.”

Kuroto clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth Parado reflects upon the fact the first time he heard this sound was years ago, what feels like an entire lifetime ago, several for Kuroto. “I was just absorbed in this coding. Otherwise I’m fine.”

The thought is not surprising to Parado, of course, because he knows Kuroto almost better than he knows anyone else. He knows Emu the best, he thinks, from having been one with him, from having grown up alongside him. He knows Graphite well, too, because the two of them had been all the other had as the years dragged by and they waited for Chronicle to be activated. And he knows Kuroto, because Kuroto had been the man who triggered his birth into the human world, a birth that had spared Emu’s life. Parado owes him for that, he thinks.

“Just because you have a lot of lives doesn’t mean we want you to lose anymore,” Parado tells him, and Kuroto turns his head, blinks at him, all soft black lashes. “I’m serious, Kuroto.”

“Of course,” Kuroto says, and Parado knows he is telling the truth, has learned his tells just as well as he has learned the tells of all of the humans. And Kuroto has been trying hard for them, has been working on his difficult personality and his unhealthy work habits so that he’s with them, and happy, and well. “I was planning on coming home at five. You want to stay until then?”

He opens a drawer before Parado can answer, flips through files and stacks of paper until he unearths something that has Parado’s eyes widening in disbelief. “You kept it!” He seizes the console, checking the back of it. And you kept  _ Mighty Action X _ in the gameslot for me, too.”

Kuroto nods. “Of course I did. It was your favorite game at the time, so I kept it just as it was.”

“I’ll stay.” Parado drapes himself across the couch just as he used to. “Have you eaten yet?”

“In about thirty minutes is when I planned on taking lunch. I was going to order something, so you can pick out what you want.” Kuroto pauses his hands on his keyboard. “Parado?”

“Hmm?” Parado forces himself to tear his gaze away from the loading screen, knowing better than anyone else that once he starts playing, he loses his ability to focus on anyone and anything else, and he wants to listen. He’s been taught that communication is key, and he wants to do his best to listen to his loved ones when they need him.

He watches Kuroto struggle for words for a moment, licking his lips, clearing his throat, his hands jittery and nervous. “Am I doing okay at this… This relationship? With all of you?”

Parado disappears and reappears in his lap, a soft kiss pressed to his lips, hopefully the answer he needs.

* * *

“This is amazing,” Kuroto tells him when they stop for gas, pulling the helmet off.

He wishes he could be more eloquent at a time like this. The beach stretches out on one side, white and almost blinding now that his eyes are free from the visor, the ocean lapping at its edges. On the other side is the forest, green and rich and alive. And Kiriya looks far too cool as he fills up the gas tank on the bike, his helmet waiting for him on the bike, his dark red leather jacket gleaming in the sunlight, his sunglasses hanging from the neck of his t-shirt.

Kiriya arches an eyebrow at him, cocks his head. “You like it?” He smiles, a flash of white teeth.

“So much. I feel like an idiot for turning down the offer for so long.” Kuroto swings a leg over the bike, stretching out his muscles. “I’m glad Graphite told me to get my head out of my ass.”

“I always wanted to share this with all of you. Now, I have,” Kiriya says, rolling his shoulders.

Kuroto pretends his face doesn’t heat up before Kiriya takes him by the hand and leads him into the convenience store to pay for gas and to pick up something to snack on before they head back out onto the road. He says he has this all mapped out, that they’ll stay in a hotel for the night and drive back home by tomorrow evening. A long daytrip all of them have been on.

“Grab whatever you want, bigshot,” Kiriya says, easy and calm and collected, twining his fingers with Kuroto’s and squeezing tight. “I’m buying this time. Lemme take care of you.”

There’s a bench off to the side of the convenience store and Kiriya parks the pike in the pavement just beyond the grass. They sit together and eat, and Kuroto lays his head on Kiriya’s shoulder, something easier to do sitting down because most of his height is in his legs and sitting down, he and Kiriya are closer to being the same height.

“Graphite got up later than you did for this trip since he doesn’t do early mornings, so we watched the sunset. Parado played one of his games for a while before we got back on the road. Taiga fell asleep in my lap, Hiiro told me about some of his patients, and Emu just wanted to get back on the road because he likes riding.” Kiriya smirks at the last statement and Kuroto snorts at him before cuddling in against him more, enjoying the closeness and the contact. “So you want a cuddle session? I can do that for you.”

“Thank you.” Kuroto reaches down to take Kiriya’s hand tight in his, and his next words come out in a rush. “For this. For taking me in. For forgiving me. For sharing yourself. For loving me.”

“You don’t have to thank me for any of that,” Kiriya whispers against his temple before kissing it.

Kuroto’s lips tremble but he holds in the tears because this is a calm, peaceful, beautiful moment and he has no reason to cry. Kiriya seems to know, just the same, and turns, and pulls him into both arms, holding him so close that it feels like their pixels are in the edge of merging together into a colorful mess. Kuroto is glad for the closeness. He always is.

When they get back on the bike, he hugs himself a little closer to Kiriya’s back, keeping his body balanced with Kiriya’s as he watches the scenery zip by.


End file.
